


After The Assignment, Us

by Nope



Category: Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-16
Updated: 2006-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:11:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's three, even when there's two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After The Assignment, Us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Andraste

 

 

Jazz plays softly. They're sat in a room, a little café sort of place. There are red chairs by the red painted counter with its white top and water boiler and coffee pot and teapot and gravy boat and plates and a glass. There are light wooden chairs pushed in under cheap wooden tables. There are pink checkered table cloths and pink checkered drapes on the windows and on the door. There's a poster on the wall, advertising Bovril beef extract, and a mounted fox head, and some pretty landscape prints in thin frames and a Rennies antacid vending machine. There's salt on the table and pepper too and HP brown sauce and a little cup light and a black ashtray and two empty china cups on cheap china saucers all on the table. On every table. It's 1948.

Except it isn't, of course.

"'Hours will become days and months. Years will become thousands of years. There is nothing but space.'"

There's a man in a dark grey suit and a light grey shirt and a dark and light grey checkered tie. His is called Steel. There's a woman in blue tights and blue shoes and a blue dress and blue earrings. She is called Sapphire. Neither of them are exactly human. They are in the café and the café is nowhere, for ever and ever.

"That's what I told Silver. Our future." Sapphire stares out the window. It's full of stars. Nothing but. "It's all very gloomy, don't you think? Pretty too. All those lights. Burning away, out there in the dark."

Steel is playing on the one-armed bandit using coins taken from the cash register. He does not answer. He just pulls on the lever and watches the wheels spin. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

"Sometimes you're supposed to lose," Sapphire says. "Well, most times you're supposed to lose."

"You said that to Silver," he says.

"Yes," she says.

"We lost," he says. "Is that supposed to make it interesting? Should we be enjoying ourselves?" He pulls the lever. Thunk thunk thunk. He pulls the lever. Thunk thunk thunk. He pulls the lever. Thunk thunk thunk.

"I suppose it's better than being alone," she says.

"What is?"

"Enjoying ourselves. It's better than just being alone."

He makes a small noise of disagreement, something like a snort but not quite. He pulls the lever. Thunkthunkthunk. He pulls the lever. Thunkthunkthunk. He pulls the lever. It snaps off in his hand. He stares at it.

"You don't know you're own strength," she says, smiling.

"Take it back," he says.

"Take what back?"

"Time, Sapphire. Take it back. Take us back."

"I can't."

"Take it back!"

"I can't!" She snaps and then, quieter, says, "there's no time to take back, Steel. There's just Now."

"A higher authority," he says, almost to himself. He's staring at the broken lever.

"Trapped in permanence by transient beings." She closes the curtains. "Was that supposed to be ironic, do you think?"

"Does it matter?" he asks.

"I suppose not," she says and comes and sits down at the table.

"Can you take this back, at least?" he asks, waving the lever.

"Silver could have fixed that."

"Yes."

"He called me 'my dear'. He said it was always a pleasure to see me, and he meant it too, you could tell."

"He's not dead, Sapphire."

"We practically are. So pleasant and easy going. He was good with devices. All sorts of devices. He knew about machines. About communications."

"He's a technician," Steel says. "A specialist. We're operators. We deal with this sort of thing all the time."

"We're not in time," she says.

"All the time," he insists.

"Not like this. Nothing like this."

"Tell me," he says.

"Tell you what?"

"Something. Anything. The tablecloth--"

"Terylene." She traces a line down, a line across with her fingertips. "The first polyester fibre. Seventy percent polyester, thirty percent cotton. Brand new."

"In 1948."

"Yes, in 1948."

"What's normal time? Time as it is."

"1948."

"We've been here for hours. Days. Longer, Sapphire. What's normal time?"

"It's 1948, Steel. We're in a trap. A sort of ... Bubble."

"'A pocket. Like a vacuum.'"

"'There's no time here, not any more.'"

"Silver said that."

"Yes."

"A time box," he says.

She smiles a little. "Sapphire and Steel have been assigned."

"With a way in."

"Yes."

"There must be a way out."

"Just the one way in. Like a lobster trap. You can push your claw in but you can't pull it out again." She idly pushes a cup around on a saucer by its handle. "Have you ever had lobster? It's a fiddly affair, but quite tasty once you've broken it open."

"We're the lobster?" Steel asks.

"A little Bovril puts beef into it," Sapphire says.

Steel stares, blank. She nods her head at the poster.

"Bovril?"

"Beef extract."

"There's no accounting for taste. ...we work together a lot, don't we."

She smiles. "Yes."

"Silver said that to me. On a previous assignment. And you and Silver..."

There are two travel chess sets on the table, one made up, one with the pieces scattered. She starts picking them up, putting them back. "Shall I cook something? There're ingredients. And water. Lead always liked my cooking."

"You and Silver," Steel repeats.

"Me and Silver," she says, not looking up. "We've worked together."

"Worked?"

"Yes, worked." She smiles, but she's still not looking up. "Sapphire, Silver and Steel. It has a nice ring to it."

"He's not here," Steel says.

"I know."

"He's still on the outside."

"If there's a way in, he'll find it. He's good with devices."

"You said that before. No, you said 'was' before. He was good with devices. He knew about machines. Past tense."

"Past. Present. Future. It's all the same in here."

"Is it?"

"Isn't it? There's no time."

"Except the present. We're moving. We can walk and talk. We change things." He waves the broken lever.

"Yes," she says, turning the boards to face him. "Care to play?"

He puts the lever on the none-armed bandit and comes and sits at the table with her. Two boards. White facing one way, white facing the other. Sapphire has her back to the closed curtains. Steel is facing them.

"Nothing outside," he says.

"Nothing," she says. "Except the distant stars, of course."

"Of course," he says.

They play in quiet, both games at once, attacking and defending and developing the game and, when the games end, they start all over again, passing the time that won't pass itself.

"Talked to Jet lately?" Sapphire asks.

"Lately?" Steel says. "No, not lately. There hasn't been the time."

He almost smiles. Sapphire does. They play the game, over and over and over. Jazz plays softly. Water gently bubbles in the boiler. The pieces click each time they're put down. They play. The jazz plays. The water bubbles. The pieces click. Stars shine behind the closed pink checkered curtains. Their shadows slide on the pink checkered table cloth. The jazz plays. They play.

"Magic mirror," says Sapphire.

Steel looks at her.

"That's what it was like. Like a fortune teller's crystal, but more so. Liquid, reflecting the whole of space and time in its surface. Nothing but space."

"'There is nothing but space.' That's what you said to Silver. What you said you said."

"Yes."

"Was it true?"

"Yes. No. I could see the edges of the box."

"We're in the box, Sapphire."

"Are we?"

"You've looked outside."

"I've looked through the window. And the door."

"Stars."

"You said it yourself. There must be a way out."

"I thought we were lobsters?" Steel asks.

"They left," Sapphire says, not answering. "The transient beings. They left."

He shrugs, just a little. "They can travel anywhere. In the past."

"Is this the past?"

"It's 1948. You said it was 1948."

"Time isn't passing, Steel." She leans forward, over the boards, insistent. "How can it be time if time isn't passing? What are we missing?"

"Silver," says Steel. "We're missing Silver. There were three, now there's two."

"I liked his waistcoat. Did you notice that?"

"Glittering. Shiny. Showing off, as usual. All very theatrical. Like that voice of his. Plummy."

Sapphire smiles, amused. "Plummy?" Steel just looks at her. "He liked you."

"He liked Copper."

"Oh, yes. Copper."

"They had their problems."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"We never did," he says, and Sapphire laughs.

"We're trapped, Steel! Both of us."

"Yes," he says. "Both of us."

"I miss Silver," she says, still smiling.

"Did you two ever...?"

"Did you?"

"He was always looking at you. Touching you. He kissed your palm. He got jealous when you--"

"He looked at you, too. He was with you in the forest." She frowns a little. "He was with you in the forest. Why isn't he here?"

"In the time box," Steel says.

"Yes."

She's fiddling with her fingers, picking at her nails. Nervous habit. He takes her hands in his. Hers are soft, warm. His are cool, strong. Her eyes search his face.

"A device. A locked mechanism. Silver is good at unlocking things. It's his purpose as a technician. And he's outside."

"He's outside?"

"He's outside, Sapphire."

They're talking intently, leant in, face to face, hand in hand.

"Silver's the way out," she says.

"Silver's the way out," Steel agrees.

She smiles. He smiles back. She squeezes his hand. He squeezes back, gently, caresses her thumb with his.

"We have time to kill," she says.

"That's one way of looking at it."

"And there's no one here, except you and me."

"Just you and me," he says. "And Silver, of course."

"Of course," she says. "We mustn't forget Silver."

"And if it was you and him..."

"Or you and him."

"Exactly. We'd do the same."

"Me, you and him," she says.

"Me, you, him," he agrees.

"I love Silver."

"Good."

"Do you love me, Steel?"

"Of course."

"And we're going to get out of here."

"There must be a way out. Silver will find it. He'll help us find it. He's good with--"

"--machines. Devices. Communication."

"He's good at talking."

"Plummy."

He smiles and it's perfectly easy for her to kiss him, there's practically no space between them. He kisses back, of course. The game boards, brushed aside, tumble from the table. Pieces click and clack across the floor, slide under their feet as they come together. Jazz plays. Water bubbles. The stuffed fox head watches them in each others arms. Alive. Living. Life.

"A little Bovril puts beef into it," she says and he makes an amused noise and pushes her easily back against the curtains, against the window.

She grabs the curtain rail one handed for balance, entwines the fingers of the other in his hair. He braces his weight against one hand against the window, still pressed against her, lips, teeth grazing her neck, his hand on her hip, her thigh, tugging her dress up, sliding beneath. Her head falls back, little gasps escaping her lips. He makes a pleased noise against her skin. They echo in each others heads, communicating on a level beyond thought, beyond emotion, perfect partners. He pushes against her and she presses against him and their rocking tugs at the curtains again, pulls them apart, until Steel can feel cold glass against his hand, Sapphire can feel it against a bared shoulder. They both look up at the same time, out at the stars, in at their flushed, disarrayed reflections in the glass.

"If there's no outside," Steel begins.

"Then why is there rain on the glass?" Sapphire finishes.

They look at each other, then Sapphire puts both hands to his face, kisses him, laughs and pulls him with her. They go to the doors together, flinging them wide, breathing hard, hearts beating wildly.

"What if we fall?" Sapphire asks, smiling, always smiling.

"He'll catch us," Steel says, sure, always sure.

"Both of us," she says.

"Both of us," he says.

The stars are bright silver. They smile together and then they jump.

 


End file.
